It was a pretty big year for fashionA lousy year for rock and rollThe people gave their blessings to crimes of passionIt was a dark, dark night of the collective soulI was somewhere out on riversideBy the El Royale HotelWhen a stranger appeared in a cloud of smokeI thought I knew him all too well

He said "Now that I have your attentionI got somethin' I wanna sayYou may not want to hear itI'm gonna tell it to you anywayYou know, I've always liked you, boy'Cause you were not afraid of meBut things are gonna get mighty roughHere in Gomorrah-By-The-Sea"

He said "It's just like homeIt's so damned hot, I can't stand itMy fine seersucker suit is all soakin' wet"

And all the hills are burningThe wind is ragingAnd the clock strikes midnightIn the Garden of Allah

"Nice car.........I love those Bavarians......... So meticulousY'know, I remember a time when things were a lot moreFun around hereWhen good was good, and evil was evilBefore things got so......... FuzzyYeah, I was once a golden boy like youI was summoned to the halls of power in the heavenly courtAnd I dined with the deities who looked upon me with favorFor my talents; my creativityWe sat beneath the palms in the warm afternoonsAnd drank the wine with Fitzgerald and Huxley

They pawned a biting phraseFrom tongues hot with bloodAnd drained their pens of bitter inkVainly reaching for the bottle full of empty EdensBranded special for the onesWho had come with great expectationsTo the perfumed halls of AllahFor their time in the sun

We were stokin' the firesAnd oilin' up the machineryUntil the gods found out we had ideas of our own"

And the war was comingThe earth was shakingAnd there was no more roomIn the Garden of Allah

"Today I made an appearance downtownI am an expert witness, because I say I amAnd I said, 'Gentleman.... And I use that word loosely....I will testify for youI'm a gun for hire, I'm a saint, I'm a liarBecause there are no facts, there is no truthJust a data to be manipulatedI can get any result you likeWhat's it worth to ya?Because there is no wrong, there is no rightAnd I sleep very well at nightNo shame, no solutionNo remorse, no retributionJust people selling T-shirtsJust opportunity to participate in the pathetic little circusAnd winning, winning, winning'"

It was a pretty big year for predatorsThe marketplace was on a rollAnd the land of opportunitySpawned a whole new breed of men without soulsThis year, notoriety got all confused with fameAnd the devil is downheartedBecause there's nothing left for him to claim

He said "It's just like homeIt's so low-down, I can't stand itI guess my work around here has all been done"

And the fruit is rottenThe serpent's eyes shineAs he wraps around the vineIn the Garden of Allah